My Ally
by AkaiButterfly
Summary: YAOI, USA/UK:Alfred/Arthur. A small romance series between the two countries, full of misunderstandings and homoerotic sex. Please don't flame, but R&R! UPDATED! Chapter 2
1. Chapter 1

_**My Ally**_

[Yaoi] USA/UK (AKA: Alfred/Arthur)  
Read and weep (or review …either or ^_^)

A/N: Hello all, it's been quite awhile. I'm at writer's block, so you get a smutty yaoi fanfiction from it.

I apologize now, I'm not deep into this fandom. I haven't done extensive research on Hetalia, I haven't watched the AMVs, read fanfiction, or anything. I've just watched the anime through episode 48. And I'm not good at history; I'm going off my high school memory. This will be a smaller series, with an ending, and so on and so forth. I apologize for my English, grammar, spelling, and so forth. Bear with me.

That and thanks for the hit!

Rated: M [for the safe side]  
Style: 3rd person, US=seme, UK=uke  
Warnings: M/M, yaoi, slash fiction

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE:**

Arthur Kirkland paused. Something was wrong – he could feel it.

In the distance he could hear voices, and their tones made him uneasy. Arthur put down his book and moved from his house in toward the forest. He moved toward the underbrush where there were a bunch of people around his age gathered around something. Hearing screams and arguing he walked closer to try and figure out what was happening.

"No…please!!" a child's cry rang from above the other young men.

"He's mine, let him go!" one of the older boys shouted.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you," another returned, a young man grabbing the kid in the center by the arm and pulling him. "Why do you get all the fun, why can't we share?"

"O-oww," the child's cries began again. "L-let go of me!"

"What's going on here?" Arthur asked, approaching the crowd. Eveyone paused, and Arthur found his patience wearing thin. "Well?"

An older boy with long blonde hair turned to Arthur and rolled his eyes. "Oh Arthur is here. See what racquet you caused?"

In the center of the circle of young men was a child, and Arthur paused. He looked like many of them when they were younger – soft blonde strands of hair, large eyes – but there was something different about the kid.

One of the young men grabbed the child by the arm and forced the child toward him. "If you stopped trying to steal what belongs to us away, there wouldn't be a problem," the young man shouted out. "Now let's settle this."

"Fine," the blonde man grinned, rolling up his sleeves. "Let's settle this."

"S-stop," the child cried. "L-let me…"

They were hurting the child. Finally something snapped within Arthur, and his anger rose out of control. "Stop it!" Arthur yelled. He took the blonde man by the collar and pushed him aside. "For the queen's sake, he's just a kid!" he yelled at the other boys. "Can't you leave him alone?"

"You can't fool us, Arthur," one of his brothers said. "You want the kid for yourself, don't you?"

"You're sick," Arthur growled, and flew his arms outwards. "Just go, out with you!" The people around him shifted. "I mean now!!"

With many grumbles the others finally moved away from the area. Arthur rubbed the side of his temple. He really hated dealing with interpersonal affairs like this.

"S-sorry…" came a small voice behind him.

Arthur turned to the child. The child looked up to him with large blue eyes, and was holding the sides of his arms where bruises were begining to form. Arthur shook his head and placed a hand on the kid's shoulders.

"You need to learn to stand up for yourself," he advised the kid from experience. "Don't let them pick on you like that."

"B-but…" Tears started to gather on the child's bottom eyelid, and Arthur could feel his shoulders shaking. "But I don't know…"

Arthur gave a sigh, and kneeled down before the crying child. "Hey, don't cry," he said. The child winced as Arthur moved his hand up to his face and wiped away the tears. "No more tears."

"Where do I go?" the child blurted out, tears falling even harder over Arthur's fingers. "They keep coming…" his knees curled up to his chest, and the child hugged them close. "They always keep coming…"

Arthur wasn't sure what to do, and the other countries were gone. "Hey," he tried again, tipping the child's chin upwards. "You can stay with me if you like."

"With you?" the child repeated. "But I…"

"It's really okay," Arthur assured. "It's lonely all alone, come on." He grabbed the child's hand and pulled him to his feet. "What's your name?"

The child sniffed and tightly grasped at the larger hand. "A-Alfred…"

* * *

Alfred Jones. How many headaches would this child cause Arthur over the next century?

"Kirkland, are you paying attention?"

Green eyes snapped open and Arthur searched the table around him. The other people around them were staring at him, and he shook his head.

"No, it's nothing, continue," Arthur replied. He could almost see Alfred's face splattered with content to know he hadn't been paying attention, and avoided his younger counterpart's eyes from across the table. He instead reorganized the papers in front of him and listened to the meeting at hand.

"We'll have to plan an attack," one of the men said. "Now with Alfred here, we've modified the plan to…"

Alfred, why did it always have to revolve around Alfred? Arthur shuffled through his papers, bending the edges and dropping a note here and there on the desk before him. Gritting his teeth together he put the papers back in order and slid them into the folder.

It was irritating. Why did Alfred always irritate him? Even after centuries the boy still knew exactly how to hit his nerves. And Arthur didn't like it, not one bit.

"It's been awhile!" Alfred said with a grin, poking Arthur in the side. When Arthur didn't respond the poking continued.

"Idiot," Arthur breathed finally before shaking Alfred off. "It hasn't been that long."

The meeting ended on a positive note, and the others began to talk amongst themselves and filter out of the conference room. Arthur saw no need to stick around any longer and tried to leave, but Alfred persistently continued their conversation.

"Letters and telephones are so much different than actually speaking to you in person," Alfred laughed, continuing to follow behind Arthur. "Come on, we should go somewhere. We should go drinking with the others or something."

Arthur stopped and flipped around. "Why are you following me?"

"Well about that…" Alfred digressed. Arthur knew there had to be some sort of ulterior motive, at least that hadn't changed with the youth. "I was wondering if I could stay with you while I'm working with you and the other…"

"No," Arthur cut him off immediately.

"Well than at least treat me to dinner?" Alfred pleaded.

This set off one of Arthur's nerves. "Etiquette, have you ever heard such a thing as etiquette?"

"Nope, never," Alfred grinned. "Come on, I haven't come to visit you in years."

"Jones, I'm not taking you to dinner," Arthur stated. "Just because we work for the same team now doesn't mean you get to eat me out of house and home anymore." Wasn't that the point of becoming independent?

"Well then can I take you to dinner?" Alfred suggested.

"No that's fine, I don't care for American foods," Arthur replied.

"Then we should go drinking," Alfred deduced. "Come on, booze is booze. All goes to the same place, all does the same thing." He smiled at his sheer brilliance. "Yeah, let's go drinking. I'll even spot you a couple dollars."

Arthur gave a reluctant sigh. "Alright, alright, I'll go with you."

"I want you to pay me back though," Alfred clarified.

"Let's just go before I change my mind," Arthur said. There was something that had been bothering him, and he wouldn't mind drinking himself under the table tonight.

Not with Alfred, but at home.

At home in the cupboards there was a nice bottle of vodka from Russia he hadn't opened yet, and if it was anything like whisky, he could drink himself under the table then. He glanced over to Alfred as the younger man rattled off more details about the bar he wanted to go to. Alfred joining their side of the war didn't ease his nerves like he had hoped, and rather it only made him feel more uneasy.

"A…Kirkland, you okay?" Alfred asked suddenly.

Ignoring any stray thought, Arthur reprimanded Alfred for getting too ambitious. "Idiot, I can handle myself." That was a lie: a complete, blatant lie.

But for what it was worth, Alfred bought it. "Great, then let the rounds begin!" Arthur sighed at his brother's stupidity. He missed this.

God, he missed this.

~end chapter one~

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AkaiButterfly Notes: Yes, nothing too much happened in this chapter, but I needed to get some sort of ground. R&R please!! This is the first fanfiction I've written in awhile. I tried to make this set during WWI, and the plan is to have it progress through the beginning of WWII – or something.

PREVIEW: Let the drinking begin! Arthur deals with memories – good and bad – of raising Alfred, and in a drunken state things happen.

Join me next time, R&R


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Wow, I can't believe I got reviews and favorites after the first twelve hours. O_O I'm thinking: "The boys haven't even gotten to bed yet!!"

nejiXtenten4everz : Yay first review! *glomps* Thank you for the review. Hope you like where the boys go this chapter. *wink*

Kttag: Haha, that's fun. Thanks for the links. Yes, fairly angsty, but that's everything I write when dealing with love I guess… _

To everyone else, review please, it makes me happy. ^_^

But if you're under the age 13, stop reading now.

**Note**: I know that England and America in the anime live in separate houses (depicted in ep.47 ish?), but for sake of convenience I just gave them the similar setup as Austria had when he ruled over Italia in Chibi-talia, so I'm assuming they live in the same house. America can rebel later. ^_^

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Alfred or Arthur, they're America and England from HETALIA. The story idea and the words are mine those, so please don't steal without my permission.

**Warnings**: M/M, Yaoi, homosexual acts, shota (what?!), HJ, anal. Typos. I don't have a beta, so typos. ^-^

* * *

**_CHAPTER TWO: _**

Alfred knew something was wrong, but for the life of him he couldn't think of how to put it. During the entire meeting Arthur didn't look at him once, and his brother seemed distracted. He shuffled through his papers and only spoke when his opinion was called for, refusing to supply any more information.

'_Just look at me…'_ Alfred thought.

Just find me, see me.

The meeting ended and everyone began to rise from their seats. Arthur acted no different. He put away the papers into his folders and stood.

It was now or never, and Alfred sucked in his breath. "It's been awhile!" he grinned, and began to poke Arthur in the side over and over again.

Arthur didn't look as happy. "Idiot," he reprimanded. "It hasn't been that long."

Sending letters, calling for trading confirmations weren't exactly what America had in mind, and he continued to follow Arthur out.

"Why are you following me?" Arthur finally burst out, turning to face him.

Green eyes finally fell on him, and Alfred smiled. "Well about that…" he laughed slightly. He had to ask, now or never. "I was wondering if I could stay with you while I'm working with you and the other…"

"No."

It stung, but Alfred ignored it, keeping the smile on his face. "Well then, at least treat me to dinner?" he suggested.

Arthur shook his head. "Etiquette," he chided. "Have you ever heard such a thing as etiquette?"

During the time England's expression softened, and Alfred just grinned from ear to ear. "Nope, never." This was nice. "Come on, I haven't visited you in years."

"Jones, I'm not taking you to dinner," Arthur stated coldly. "Just because we work on the same team now doesn't mean you get to eat me out of house and home anymore."

Alfred's brains scrambled to think of an alternative. "Well then can I take you to dinner?"

"No that's fine, I don't care for American foods."

"Then we should go drinking." Alfred felt like he was grasping at straws, but when the idea wasn't immediately shut down he decided on it. "Come on, booze is booze. All goes to the same place, all does the same thing." He knew he sounded like an idiot, but he just continued to smile as if it hadn't occurred to him. "Yeah, let's go drinking. I'll even spot you a couple dollars."

A reluctant sigh came from Arthur. "Alright, alright, I'll go with you."

Victory. "I want you to pay me back though," Alfred teased.

"Let's just go before I change my mind," Arthur said, walking ahead of Alfred. Alfred smiled, and trailed after him.

"I want whisky, or vodka would be nice…maybe in a martini?" he rambled off. "Oh, we should go to that one place? You know, the one you didn't let me go to when I was a kid, I mean, not that you should be letting a kid to a bar or something, but – I mean – that would be good. I've been practicing you know, I could totally beat you I bet by now." There was no response, and it worried him. "Ar…" but Alfred stopped. Right, they were on business. "Kirkland, you okay?" he asked.

Arthur shook off Alfred's hand. "Idiot, I can handle myself."

Alfred pretended like it didn't hurt and sprung forward. "Great, then let the rounds begin!"

Yeah, he could go for being drunk right about now.

* * *

Arthur couldn't help remembering the time Alfred and he lived together under the same roof.

There were some days having a younger brother was nothing more than a pain. Alfred was clumsy, didn't like anything he cooked, and once he grew a little confidence bothered him about everything. But Arthur put up with it, sometimes humoring the child and showing him how things were done. They would go out into town together, hand in hand, and Arthur knew someday he'd teach the kid how to use a rifle. He didn't mind it most of the time – it kept him busy.

And after Alfred was safe in bed, Arthur would sprawl out in his tall chair before the fireplace, and look the newspapers over briefly. His life was comfortable at this point, and for what it was worth Arthur liked it.

"Umm…Arthur?"

Arthur looked up from the charts of black and white to the adolescent standing in the doorway. "Alfred?" he asked. "I thought you were asleep."

Alfred shifted uncomfortably, and his hands tugged at the large shirt he used to sleep in. "T-there's something wrong with me," he said.

"What's wrong?" Arthur asked, sitting up. "Did something happen?"

But Alfred's head shook terribly. "I don't know," he said. "There's something wrong with me."

"Here, let me see," Arthur said.

Alfred's cheeks glowed pink before he lifted up his shirt. The kid had an erection, plain and simple, and Arthur couldn't help but laughing at Alfred's naivety. But the youth before him shot bright red, and his penis twitched. This was only making the problem worse.

"Stop laughing," Alfred pouted.

"Sorry, I'm sorry," Arthur smiled, and grabbed Alfred by the hands. "There's nothing wrong with you, okay?"

"Then how do you fix it?" Alfred asked.

Arthur felt his face redden in response, but took pity on the kid. He stood up, grabbed Alfred by the shoulders, and turned him toward the bathroom. "Just touch yourself."

"How?"

"Well however I guess...whatever feels good?"

"I tried, it makes the problem worse," Alfred said.

Arthur sighed and set his chin on the youth's head. "Then I'll show you."

He slid his hand past the elastic of the younger man's boxers to find the hardened rod. Alfred gasped, and his blue eyes widened. With the other hand, Arthur pulled the article of clothing so it pooled between the child's feet, and he began to work the erection between his fingers. It wasn't completely hard yet, and the organ grew in Arthur's palm.

"Y-You're making it worse," the young Alfred hissed.

"Don't worry, I know what I'm doing," Arthur laughed.

A small moan escaped from Alfred and he collapsed into Arthur. The passion locked adolescent in his arms was heavy, and Arthur lowered them to the floor.

"A-Arthur?"

But the other country didn't respond, instead wrapped a fist at the base of Alfred's wet penis and began to pump. Alfred's breathing grew more and more ragged, and his hips moved with each of Arthur's movements.

"I-I can't," Alfred forced out. "Can't...h-hold back..."

He was close, and Arthur squeezed a little harder and worked him a little faster.

"Just let it go," Arthur whispered into his ear. "It's okay."

"B-but..." Alfred shivered. The sentence would remain unfinished. Alfred's muscles tensed, and Arthur felt the organ in his fingers twitch. Small strings of semen flew from the tip and spilled over Arthur's hands. Alfred was still trying to recover from his first orgasm, breathing heavily, and was blushing horribly.

"There," Arthur said lightly. His hope was the carefree nature of his statement would put the kid at ease, and he helped Alfred to his feet. "Now let's get washed up."

* * *

Arthur taught the man everything – and he meant everything. And still, the man sitting across the table from him seemed like nothing more than an enigma. It had been years since he had seen the man, but some of his habits held true. Alfred still talked the same way, and his imagination flew off at any suggestion.

"I'm on a roll," Alfred grinned, calling the waiter over. "Two more please."

Arthur felt the alcohol getting to his system, and he shook his head. "Wait…" He felt the world spin with the shake of his head, and he took a breath before trying to continue. "…I'm done." He didn't want to get drunk too bad in front of Alfred, and if he wanted to drink the vodka at home he'd have to be able to make it there.

"Come on, I'm on a roll," Alfred said from amongst the empty glasses. "You can't be at your limit already?"

"If I remember, you were the lightweight," Arthur returned, and allowed the waitress to bring them another round of alcohol.

Alfred grinned. "Watch this," the younger man said. He took the mixed drink and tilted his head back. Arthur just watched as Alfred's adam's apple bobbed up and down as the man downed the drink.

"You're crazy," Arthur pointed out, sipping at his own drink.

"Another round," Alfred told the waitress.

"At least wait for me to finish this one," Arthur chided.

Three glasses later, two of which were downed rather quickly, Arthur could start to feel the alcohol taking affect. The world was fogged around the edges, and he couldn't remember which of the glasses in front of them were Alfred's, and which ones were his.

"I'm feeling that last one," Alfred hooted.

Arthur watched the perspiration on the glass slide down and glitter in the dim lighting of the bar. "I think I need to head home."

"And you called me the lightweight?" Alfred teased.

Arthur stood, but felt the alcohol rush to his system. The world tilted to the right, and Arthur fell back into his chair.

"Arthur, you okay?" Alfred asked.

"I really need to head home," Arthur slurred.

"Right, right," Alfred said, flagging the waitress down for the bill. "Can you make it?"

"Of course." But after a few tries, Arthur found he couldn't walk in a straight line without something to hold onto.

Alfred laughed, grabbed Arthur's arm, and swung it over his shoulder. "Come on, I'll take you home."

"Ya donthave to," Arthur muttered.

"Arthur," Alfred said. "If you haven't noticed, you're so drunk you can't walk ten feet without falling."

* * *

They reached Arthur's house a half an hour later, and he fiddled with the keys for about minute before they could get through the door. While Arthur turned on each of the lights in the room, Alfred stood in the doorway looking around. The house hadn't changed much in the time he had left. The living room was a bit disheveled per usual, and was overlooked by the kitchen area. Down the hallway was the office and bathroom, and up the stairs were three bedrooms. Three bedrooms, but Alfred knew Arthur lived alone at the time.

"It's been awhile since I've been here," Alfred sighed.

"Should look same," Arthur said, taking off his shoes. "Thanks for bringing me back."

"Are you okay now?" Alfred asked.

"Ya, I think ima sobering up a little," Arthur replied, and hung up his coat. "Where're you staying?"

"Not sure, but I'll find a place," Alfred shrugged. "All else fails I'll bug Francis about sleeping with my brother and see if I can't leech a night off him."

Arthur moved into the kitchen, still not walking completely in a straight line. When he hit the lights his vision blurred, and he had to hold the counter to stay balanced.

"You can stay here if ya like," Arthur said.

Alfred paused, and looked over to the kitchen. "What?"

"I don't care, it's lonely without you here anyway."

Arthur hadn't meant for that to slip out, but before he knew it the words were slurred from his drunken lips and an awkward silence fell between the two of them. Arthur shrugged his shoulders and moved to the cupboards. But when he reached for the handles his hand fell short and he missed.

"Fuck..."

"I'll stay the night then," Alfred said. "If you'll have me."

"What're being polite now for?" Arthur slurred out. "Come'ere and be useful a…nd help me find something."

Alfred walked into the kitchen. "What are you looking for?"

"Cupboards, the vodka," Arthur said.

Alfred's eyebrow raised. "You're drinking again?"

"Why not?"

"Why not?" the younger man repeated. "You hardly made it home."

"You can't tell me what to do," Arthur stated. "Besides, I'm trying to forget something."

"What?" Alfred asked.

"Seeing you today," Arthur groaned as if it should have been obvious. "How much I missed you."

The man was drunk, and continued to spur off information. Alfred knew if he was sober, he'd never hear these things – not in a million years. Arthur continued to struggle with the cabinets, shuffling through the things looking for the vodka.

"Well don't stand there, help me…"

Instead, Alfred took off his glasses and placed them behind him on the counter. Alfred walked up, leaned over and placed a soft kiss on Arthur's lips. Arthur stopped talking, and closed his eyes and let his mouth move. When it ended, Arthur looked up and reattached their lips. The younger man tasted sweet, but maybe it was from the unhealthy diet. Or maybe he was just drunk – there was always that fact.

"When did you get so tall?" Arthur said offhandedly.

"Same time you got short," Alfred replied.

"America…you never take anything seriously, do you," Arthur sighed.

Alfred's cheeks puffed out. "I do too."

The sight was rather hilarious, and Arthur laughed. "Fine, fine," he said. "Just do whatever to me."

"You're drunk," Alfred frowned.

"So let's do it before I regret something," Arthur said.

The man was serious, and Alfred exhaled, scratching the back of his head. "Promise you won't hate me?" he murmured.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Promise."

And their lips met again. Alfred knew that he'd never have a chance like this again, and reached down to cup Arthur through his pants. Arthur whimpered, and the second his lips parted Alfred deepened the kiss. The lights were too distracting, and they backed out towards the stairs. Arthur tripped over the first stair, and landed on the incline. Alfred, without disconnecting their kiss, moved to undo the front of Arthur's shirt.

Arthur fought his socks, and helped Alfred remove his shirt. They broke the kiss to pull the shirt over Alfred's head, and fought with each other's belts. Alfred, being the less drunk of the two, finished first and pulled the belt from around Arthur's waist. Once the older man was freed from his pants, Alfred attacked his neck, spreading kisses all over.

"I missed you," Arthur said again, looking up into Alfred's blue eyes.

"I'm here now," Alfred said. Arthur cocked his head to the side. Alfred was never this serious, but he liked the change.

Alfred slid his arm under Arthur's knees and head and then lifted the smaller man up. He walked up to the master bedroom and kicked open the door. The plain room hadn't changed much either, the king size bed in the center of the room was neatly made, and a blanket was folded at the bottom. Arthur didn't bother with the lights, and walked past the dresser and threw the older man down on the bed.

Alfred climbed on top of Arthur, placing his hands on either side of the other's shoulders. He bent down to kiss Arthur briefly on the lips before moving downward past the well defined clavicle to his chest. Seeing the pert nipple he latched down on one, swirling his tongue around the reddened area.

"Alfred," Arthur hissed in pleasure. His fingers scrunched in the other's blonde hair. But the younger man continued downwards, tracing circles with his tongue around Arthur's naval, and stopped only when he met the man's boxers. Arthur lifted his hips, and Alfred dropped the boxers on the ground below them. He kissed Arthur's erection, letting his tongue trail over the organ. A shiver ran through Arthur's body, and Alfred moved downward.

"Lift your hips again," Alfred whispered, sending chills over where he last kissed Arthur.

The older man complied, and Alfred moved downwards past the man's sack and to his opening. Alfred's tongue slipped out from between his lips and swirled around Arthur's tight rose. After a moment, he pulled back slightly. "God, I want to be inside you," Alfred growled.

"T-then fill me already," Arthur spat out.

Inwardly, Arthur blamed it all on the alcohol. Alfred fiddled with his pants and finally released the tension building in his boxers. Holding his erection in one hand, he positioned himself in front of Arthur, and leaned forward to kiss the man.

He pushed in, and felt the ring of muscles give and contract around him. Arthur moaned into the kiss, and his hips moved so that he further impaled himself on the other man. Once Alfred was fully sheathed, he pulled back to look at the man below him.

"You alright?" Alfred breathed.

"J-just move," Arthur said.

The younger man laughed at his impatience. Alfred retracted backwards until he almost slipped out before pushing forward. Arthur shivered, relishing the feeling of the younger man within him. After the first few thrusts, Arthur let Alfred set the pace. Each time he could feel his insides contract and feel empty before Alfred pushed forwards, filling him with pleasure. The young man angled his movements upward, and Arthur nearly screamed from the pleasure that assaulted him.

"A-Arthur," Alfred stuttered.

The younger man was close. "Just let it go," Arthur breathed out, and leaning over to Alfred's ear he whispered: "It's okay."

The feathery voice tickling his ears pushed Alfred over the edge, and he came. The feeling of the younger man release deep inside him, the warm liquid spreading into him, was erotic. Alfred pulled back slightly, then jerked straight into Arthur's prostate. White flashed behind Arthur's eyelids. His body convulsed, and with a groan felt himself cum into the small area between them.

Alfred collapsed on top of him, breathing heavily as the aftermath of the orgasm tolled on his body. "Arthur," Alfred whispered into the other's hairline.

Arthur didn't pull back, instead curled up into Alfred's front. "This is your fault, I hope you know," he panted.

"Then punish me," Alfred told him.

Large arms wrapped around Arthur and held him closer. Arthur felt his consciousness slipping away, and he pressed his forehead against Alfred's broad chest. Faintly beneath the warm surface he could hear the younger man's heart as it beat. And as he fell asleep, Arthur caught himself wishing that it could have stayed like this forever.

Because tonight he wasn't going to be alone.

~end Chapter two~

* * *

AkaiButterfly Notes: Holy crap…well there you are: sex. Gotta love drunken stupidity. ^___^ You know, I'm not sure why England's house looks like it does, but it seems a bit plain. I thought it fit his personality, but not his country. Whatever, bear with my lack of attention to details. _

Review with the button below please! Anonymous or not I appreciate the feedback. Don't flame, but I do like the critiques if you feel inclined.

PREVIEW: Parting, the Revolutionary War, and misunderstandings.

See you next time!


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